


back to you (when i'm not supposed to)

by lucylikestowrite



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Ava accidentally runs into Sara @ sink shower and stuff, F/F, Flirting, Fluff, and then keeps running into her, not quite as accidentally, the T rating is just for swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-18 22:54:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucylikestowrite/pseuds/lucylikestowrite
Summary: Sara turns back to Ava, slowly, and when she meets Ava’s gaze again, there is a sickly sweet smile plastered on her face.“Sorry about that. What I meant to say was: How may I be of assistance?” Her voice is exaggerated in its politeness.“Towels,” Ava says, abruptly. All of her usual eloquence, in the face of a person she is breaking all the rules to speak to, goes.





	back to you (when i'm not supposed to)

**Author's Note:**

> this is not officially part of the summer of aus even though it is strictly an au bc the summer of au fics are all _complete_ aus ie not set in the canonverse at all whereas this just messes with the timeline a bit. I've just got super bad writer's block on all the fics I have planned and this was mostly written so I'm posting this so as not to break my posting schedule in literally the first week.  
>  title is a slight bastardisation of a lyric from back to you by selena gomez which you should all listen to because it is such a good avalance angst song

The first time Ava Sharpe meets Sara Lance, former ‘Legend’, and current Sink Shower and Stuff employee, it's entirely by accident.

Of course, the Bureau has them under surveillance, but that's not why Ava runs into her.

She just honest to god needed towels, and when she'd had to make a detour after work to stop at Sink, Shower and Stuff, she'd completely forgotten that Sara worked there.

Ava wouldn't have usually made that kind of mistake, but it had been a long day. Gary had almost messed up a mission, and her entire plan for the day had gone out of the window as she'd had to drop everything and fix it.

All she'd wanted was to go home and have a long shower, and then, five minutes from home, she'd remembered that she needed towels.

There had been an unfortunate incident that morning involving her breakfast, an entire cup of coffee, and the towel Ava had been wearing while trying to multitask getting ready.

Ava's reluctance to own more than one set of towels had finally caught up with her. Unless she wanted to trek out to the laundrette before she had a shower, or dry off with a coffee and cereal stained towel, she was going to need a new set.

Which is how she ends up in the parking lot of the nearest Sink, Shower and Stuff to her apartment.

She gives herself a second to breathe, because being around other people is the last thing she wants to be doing right now.

Pulling down the mirror over the steering wheel, she looks at herself. Stress is evident in her face, but there's nothing that she can do about that.

Ava pulls her hair down out of its bun, and the release of tension in her scalp is something, at least. She glances at her reflection one more time, before carefully removing the pin on her lapel, setting it aside, and getting out of the car.

The shop is busy, people everywhere. Children are screaming, and, usually, Ava doesn't have any particular aversion to kids, but right now, the noise is the last thing she needs.

She can feel a headache coming on, and she just wants to get out of there as quickly, but the store is giant, and, despite it being close to her apartment, she's never been there before.

The apartment had come furnished, and she didn't need extra luxuries. And, until now, all the linen she'd brought with her had been enough.

She’s got no idea where to go, and she just wants to be done as quickly as possible.

So Ava isn't paying as much attention to her surroundings as she usually would be, doesn't notice what she usually would: that the employee she taps on the shoulder to ask for directions, this small blonde who is rearranging a display with more anger than seems necessary, is someone she should recognise, even from the back.

The woman turns around, and for the first time, she's staring at Sara Lance in the flesh.

Ava has spent a long time staring at photos of her, has spent a long time reading about her, but this is the first time she's actually been in her presence. And the first thing Ava’s traitorous, traitorous brain thinks is that she's even prettier in person.

The second thing she thinks is that she absolutely, 100% should not be here. Rip has set out strict non-interference policies for the Legends, and, simply by being here, Ava has (inadvertently) broken almost all of them.

She knows she's just staring. Sara is looking at her, her eyes narrowed, her arms crossed.

“Did you want something?” Sara asks, and her voice is confrontational.

Ava is only slightly taken aback. It's not how one would expect to be spoken to by a shop assistant, but she knows enough about Sara to not be particularly surprised.

A tall man in a name badge, with the airs of someone who thinks they're more important than they actually are, passes by. Sara turns to look at him. Out of the corner of her eye, Ava sees him hiss something at Sara, gesturing with his head at Ava.

Ava pretends not to see.

Sara turns back to Ava, slowly, and when she meets Ava’s gaze again, there is a sickly sweet smile plastered on her face.

“Sorry about that. What I _meant_ to say was: How may I be of assistance?” Her voice is exaggerated in its politeness.

“Towels,” Ava says, abruptly. All of her usual eloquence, in the face of a person she is breaking all the rules to speak to, goes.

Sara looks at her, her expression quizzical.

Ava takes a breath. “I mean, if you could show me where towels are, that would be great.”

Sara is still smiling that same, saccharine smile.

Ava knows it's fake, knows that she's supposed to dislike this woman anyway, but she can't help but be taken in. Later, she will blame the fact that she didn't just walk away, didn't extract herself from the situation before she was compromised, on the fact that she was tired.

But really, she's intrigued. If she's being honest, she's wanted to meet Sara from the first day of training. She would never have purposefully broken the rules, but now she's already in the middle of this situation, she's not going to walk away. It's innocent, anyway, and almost devoid of any possible danger. Sara has no way of knowing who she is. Their interaction will be over in minutes.

That's what Ava tells herself as she follows Sara through the shop.

As she does, she can't help but study her. She's partly motivated by the knowledge that one day, probably, they're going to meet again in an official capacity. Sure, the Legends are disbanded right now, but if Ava learnt anything from Sara’s file, it's that she has a funny way of coming back to things.

Death couldn't stop her. Somehow Ava doesn't think Rip telling her to give up time travel is going to stop her either, at least not permanently.

The other part of her is watching Sara intently because she really is stunning, and, now that Ava has been dragged into her orbit, it's hard to look away.

She walks with confidence, even in her uniform. Her hands, where they hang by her sides, are fidgeting. There is a need to do something, anything that isn't this job that is evident in the tension in her body. Ava almost feels bad for her. Almost. If she hadn't broken all of time, Ava might have a bit more sympathy for Sara, stuck in a job that doesn't use a single one of her… abilities.

There aren't many jobs going that require hand-to-hand combat, unfortunately.

As they walk further, Ava can see that Sara’s eyes are constantly moving, and she knows that Sara is checking for danger. It's danger that isn't there, but that reflex, that constant need to be surveilling the surroundings, is something Ava can understand.

Eventually, after it seems like they've walked a mile, Sara stops. Ava is so engrossed in memorizing everything about her (for purely official reasons, she tells herself, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach) that she almost bumps into Sara, stopping herself just in time, inches away from touching her.

Ava jumps back, as if she has been burned. Sara doesn't notice.

Sara turns around, putting that smile back on her face. It doesn't reach her eyes. That smile is apparently the only concession she is still making to good customer service, because when she says, “Towels,” gesturing with her hand at the section behind her, her voice is monotonous.

Apparently, her only inspiration to be nice was the immediate presence of the man who Ava can only assume is her manager.

Ava opens her mouth to speak, and nothing comes out. Sara is glaring at her again. Ava shouldn't be reacting like this.

It wasn't like she hadn't already _known_ the woman was hot. She'd noticed that the first day of training, when Rip had put up a photo of the Legends and said, “These people are the reason this organisation exists. They are reckless, entirely irresponsible, and dangerous.”

Ava had hardly been listening, focusing on the small blonde in the middle of the photo, the woman she'd soon learn was Sara, her mind wandering.

So it wasn’t like this knowledge was new—she'd noticed it early on, and had made the executive decision to ignore the ridiculous crush.

She shouldn't be tongue-tied. Like, really, really shouldn't be. She'd thought she'd got over these feelings years ago, had locked in a box the secret that she thought Sara Lance, time criminal, was more than attractive.

Maybe it's just knowing she's breaking the rules that has her so flustered. That Sara had turned up and _made_ her break the rules. The thought grounds her slightly. She knows she can't really be angry with Sara, that it’s not her fault, but it's better than feeling like she's got a crush on her.

And then Sara speaks again, her voice a low drawl. “Are you going to keep staring at me like that, or can I go?”

The tone of her voice pisses Ava off. “Do you speak to all of your customers like that?” she asks, her voice hard, the anger behind it almost real.

Sara seems slightly taken aback by the sudden shift in Ava’s demeanor, but she recovers quickly, an expression that Ava can't quite read settling on her face. “No need to get defensive, honey. It’s okay. I don't really mind the staring. Not when they look like _you_.”

At the last word, her voice drops, and Ava realises that the look on her face is intrigue. That something about Ava raising her voice, doing more than just stumble over her words had piqued Sara’s interest—and that Sara Lance, ex-assassin, ex-captain of the Legends, is flirting with her.

She does it casually, lightly, like it's a game. There is a slight challenge on her face. Ava supposes she has to get her kicks from somewhere.

Sara looks Ava up and down, and it feels like she is undressing Ava with her eyes.

Ava shifts, her hands clasping behind her back. The familiar feeling is a small comfort.

“You're not—” Ava starts, gritting her teeth.

“Your type?” Sara suggests, interrupting her. “Shame.”

Part of Ava wants to correct her, but she doesn't want to let Sara win - or let Sara know anything about her that she could at some point use.

Part of her thinks that Sara doesn't actually believe her, because her eyes are still roaming over Ava, with this _look_ on her face that makes Ava feel a little like prey.

Sara is backing away now. Ava doesn't want to let her leave with the upper hand, but all she can think to say is, “I could get you fired for talking to me like that,” and then she's cursing internally because that was the stupidest, most childish thing to say.

“You know where to find me,” Sara says, and it's obvious she’s not she worried about Ava carrying through with her threat, because she actually winks.

As she walks away, all Ava can do is stare.

And then Sara turns around, one last time, catches her still looking, and a smirk forms on her face that makes Ava’s blood boil.

 

The second time they meet, it's despite all of Ava's efforts to avoid her. It shouldn't happen, but, apparently, someone up there has a sick sense of humour.

Ava purposefully goes to the Sink, Shower and Stuff on the other side of town, refusing to risk another run in with Sara.

It's been two weeks, and Sara has been stuck in her head almost the entire time. But it's fine, because Sara doesn't work in that store. She's somewhere, miles away, safely out of Ava’s reach.

Or, at least, that's what Ava thinks, until she is minding her own business, two new packets of bed sheets under her arm, and she turns a corner, and comes face to face with Sara Lance.

Again.

(Gary had made a comment about how he always has at least two spare lots of bed sheets, because that's the _adult_ thing to do, and Ava can't bear the thought of him thinking he somehow had his life more together than she did, so here she is.)

And Ava is speechless.

Again.

“Are you stalking me?” Sara asks, without missing a beat, mock shock on her face.

“No.” Ava says, over-compensating for the feelings that are rushing up inside of her by almost growling it. “This isn't even your store.”

“You've only met me at the east side store once. How do you know _this_ isn't where I work usually?” Sara asks, moving closer, her arms crossed. “How do I know you didn’t look me up?”

 _“I did look you up,”_ Ava thinks, but she can't say that. She’d only done it to ensure that exactly _this_ wouldn’t happen again. Of course, it wouldn’t have been hard to hack into the employee rotas, see where Sara was scheduled to work, but she hadn’t even considered that that was something she might have to do.

That was a mistake she wouldn’t make again.

“I didn't look you up,” Ava says, her jaw tight and she only feels slightly bad for the lie. It hardly counts as a lie if it’s to protect the secrecy of the Bureau. “I just assumed, I suppose.”

Sara grins. “You were right, anyway. They just needed extra help here today.” She looks down at the sheets under Ava’s arm. “It’s a good thing I’m here, though. You made a terrible choice there.”

“With my sheets?” Ava asks, incredulous, before she can stop herself. She should really walk away, _now_ , but she doesn't. “I wasn't aware that you could make the wrong choice with bedsheets. They're just sheets.”

“Yeah, but you've got to sleep on them. Among other things,” Sara says. Ava can feel her cheeks colouring, and she hates it. Sara’s words have her frozen, and Sara takes the opportunity to grab the sheets away from Ava, screwing up her nose.

“These really are utterly terrible,” Sara says.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say that about your merchandise,” Ava points out, and Sara waves this away.

“Do I look like I care? It’s not even like my normal manager is here. And anyway,” she continues, throwing the packages down with poorly hidden disdain. “They really are gross. Who likes _beige_?”

“Maybe _I_ do,” Ava says, indignant.

But, truth be told, she’d just grabbed the first ones she saw. Now that she has a second glance at them, where Sara has discarded them on a display that is definitely _not_ a bed sheet display, she can see that they are kinda gross, but she’s not going to admit that.

Sara raises an eyebrow. “Even _you_ are not boring enough to like beige.”

“Who says I’m boring?”

“You’ve been wearing the same thing both times I’ve seen you.”

“So have you,” Ava shoots back.

“It’s a uniform, jerk,” Sara says.

“So’s mine,” Ava says, although she shouldn’t, because it’s only one question away from Sara asking what the uniform is for, and she hasn’t thought of a lie yet.

She has to hold back a sigh of relief when Sara doesn’t push it, instead saying, “You’re at a Sink, Shower and Stuff at 9PM on a Friday.”

Ava doesn’t have a response to that. “Okay, fair.”

“Nothing else better to be doing?” Sara asks with a smirk on her face that makes it clear that she means ‘nobody’ instead of ‘nothing’.

Ava ignores the blatant innuendo, looking away. “Nope.”

The look Sara gives her tells Ava that Sara knows Ava knew what she was asking, and she slightly regrets implying that she’s single, because Sara seems spurred on by the word. “Well, then, I guess we gotta find you some better sheets,” Sara says, in a way that doesn't sound like she's going to take no for an answer. She starts to turn, and then pauses. “Wait.”

“What?”

“If I'm going to help you pick out sheets, I need to know your name.”

Ava had slightly forgotten that Sara doesn't know her name. But now that she remembers, she's reluctant to tell Sara. “Is that a store policy?” She scoffs.

Sara crosses her arms, moving closer. Ava’s hands go behind her back, automatically, and she backs away, just slightly, without even thinking. Sara notices. “No. It's a Sara rule.” Sara gestures at her name badge. “You know my name. So if you don't tell me yours, I'm not helping you with the sheets.”

The threat shouldn't have any force behind that, and they both know that. Ava didn't even want help with her sheets. If she answers, then that means—

“Ava,” Ava says, quickly, like ripping off a bandaid.

—then that means she's acknowledging interest, that she's playing the game, that she's giving in, giving _up_ the little plausible deniability she had that nothing's happening here.

“Ava,” Sara echoes. “Nice name. Ava.”

The second time she says it, she slows the word down, dragging the two syllables out, and Ava absolutely should not be feeling like she's about to blush. Not least because Sara’s gaze on her is intense, unwavering, like she knows exactly what she's doing, and a blush would just give her more confidence.

Ava briefly remembers that, as far as Sara knows, Ava is straight. But, Sara hasn't asked again, hasn't even alluded to it, and Ava wonders if, maybe, Sara doesn't even care. Maybe she's just that confident in her abilities. The cockiness shouldn't make Ava more attracted to her, but it… kinda does.

And then Sara is grabbing her arm, pulling her back towards the bed sheets, and Ava can't do anything but follow. When they're back in front of the display, Ava stops, trying to look like she's studying the sheets and not Sara.

Sara turns to her. “What size bed do you have?”

Her voice is innocent. Her expression is not.

“King,” Ava says, through gritted teeth.

“Roomy,” Sara says, and this time, her voice is still light and casual, but is anything _but_ innocent. Ava makes a non-committal sound. Sara’s hand finds Ava’s arm again, gently pushing her sideways. “In that case,” Sara continues, “it's probably worth looking at the sheets for king size beds, and not single beds.”

Ava hadn't even noticed that she'd been looking at the wrong sheets. She'd been distracted, and, God, Sara had noticed that as well. There's a barely disguised smirk on Sara’s face. It feels like they're at a bar, not a goddamn home goods store.

Then Sara makes things worse, leaning in close, stretching her arm across Ava’s body to reach for a pack of sheets. For a second, she's intoxicatingly close, so close that Ava can _smell_ her, so close that she can hear Sara’s breathing.

And then she pulls back, the packet in her hands, a tiny grin on her face.

Sara raises an eyebrow. Ava turns away, briefly, her eyes going to the ceiling. She shouldn't be doing this. She should _not_ be doing this. Sara's voice brings her back to the ground. “What do you think?”

Ava’s eyes snap down, meeting Sara’s eyes. “Of what?” Ava is momentarily lost, not sure what they were doing.

“The sheets, duh,” Sara says, waving the set she has pulled down from the shelf in front of Ava’s face.

Ava glances at them. “I don't like pink.”

“Fair enough,” Sara says. “What _do_ you like?”

Ava opens her mouth, and before she can speak, Sara holds a finger up, dangerously close to Ava’s mouth. “Do _not_ say beige.”

“I wasn't going to,” Ava says, a little too quickly.

Sara tilts her head, a skeptical look on her face.

“Okay, maybe I was going to say beige. It's calming—”

“Boring,” Sara interjects.

“It doesn't show stains.”

“What the hell are you doing in your bed, Ava?”

Ava doesn't answer that, instead, turning away, back to the display in front of her. “I like blue,” she says.

“Okay,” Sara says. “I can work with that.”

 

The third time, Ava goes to Sara’s normal store almost on purpose. She has already broken the rules twice, and, at this point, it doesn't even seem to matter if she does it again. The excuse that she has given herself, that she has a vague need for some sort of bathroom supplies, is too flimsy to hold up.

Except, as it turns out, Sara is nowhere to be found, and, after wandering the aisles for fifteen minutes, trying to convince herself that she's looking for anything but Sara, she admits defeat, and leaves, not sure why she assumed Sara would always be working whenever Ava happened to decide to visit.

It's probably a good thing. That's what she tells herself. A sign. A sign that this… flirtation, this... whatever it is should stop right now.

She's rounding the corner to where her car is parked when she hears her name being called out. Ava turns around. Sara is a little distance away, leaning against a wall, looking more effortlessly chill than anyone in a Sink, Shower and Stuff uniform should ever be allowed to look.

Sara says her name again, and then she's _beckoning_ Ava, and it's like someone else is moving Ava’s feet for her. It would be rude to ignore her, anyway, so she goes over, and when she gets there, Sara actually smiles at her.

“What are you doing out here?” Ava asks, before she can stop and think about whether that's a good thing to ask.

“Why?” Sara asks, the beginning of a smirk on her face. “Were you looking for me inside?”

“No,” Ava says, too quickly and far too defensively.

“Why'd you come to the store?” Sara asks, looking down at Ava’s clearly empty arms.

“To do… stuff.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Return stuff?”

“The sheets?” Sara asks, and she's almost offended.

“No,” Ava says.

Sara smirks. “Good. You're not allowed to return them until _after_ I've gotten a chance to test them out.”

She's relentless, and all Ava wants is to give in, but she doesn't. Instead she coughs, looking away, and, trying to sound casual, says, “You never told me why you were out here, anyway.”

Sara shrugs. “I'm on a smoke break.”

“You smoke?” Ava asks, more incredulous than she should be, because, according to Sara’s file, she's a non-smoker.

“No. But if I don't come out here, I have to be in the break room, and they all seem to actually like talking about towels. So I come out here instead.”

“You don't get… lonely?” Ava asks.

Sara turns away, leaning against the wall, staring out into the car park.

“No.” Sara’s voice is hard, and then she shakes her head, and the mask falls down slightly. “Why? You offering to keep me company?”

She's leaning in close. Ava recoils slightly at the blatant offer. The second one in as many minutes.

“Aww, fuck,” Sara says. “If you've got a girlfriend in that kingsize bed of yours I'm going to be mad.”

“No, I—”

“Oh, god, you're not even gay? I thought you were just being defensive that first time.”

“I’m gay,” Ava says, giving up trying to hide it. “But you're…”

“ _Don't_ say ‘not my type’, because we both know that's a lie," Sara says, with a smirk.

Sara is absolutely her type, but she's not going to say that.

“You're working.” That works, just about, as an excuse.

“I didn't say you had to keep me company _right now_ ," Sara says, her eyes wide, tempting.

“It was… implied." Ava's voice is quiet, losing her conviction.

“I get off at seven.” Sara's eyes flick up and down Ava's body as she says this, pursing her lips. The double entendre is clear in her voice.

“I’m busy,” Ava says.

Sara looks at her, crossing her arms. “Doing what?” she asks, challenging Ava, not backing down easily. 

“Things," Ava says, and it sounds immature, even to her, but she doesn't owe Sara anything. Sara hardly even knows her

“Why don't you want to go out with me, Ava? I'm hot, you're hot, I'm lonely, you've got nice new sheets. We're a perfect match…” Sara trails off, her voice suggestive.

Sara's just joking around—they hardly know each other, but they really are more perfect than Sara could know. Not that Ava's thought about it, not that she's thought about the fact that this is someone who is actually her equal, someone who she wouldn't have keep secrets from.

Ava sighs. She really _is_ busy that night, but she could maybe, _maybe_ use the courier to get around that. Of course, using it for personal means would be breaking another rule, but she's already broken so many she almost doesn't think about it.

But, no. She can't. Rip would find out, somehow. He's monitoring the Legends, and it's a wonder he hasn't realised already about Ava’s… run ins with Sara.

So she shakes her head, says, “No. I'm sorry. I'm busy. I can't,” as firmly as she can. "And you need to stop trying."

This doesn't put Sara off at all. She pouts, and then her fingers are going to Ava’s lapel, drawing her in closer.

“Sara…” Ava trails off, unable to think about much with Sara this close to her face.

“If I kissed you, would that change your mind?”

Ava breathes in sharply, and Sara can't have missed it, not with hardly half a foot of space between them.

“No. I'll still be busy,” Ava says, somehow still managing to keep the waver out of her voice, managing to sound imposing, like her words are final. "You really don't know how to take no for an answer do you?"

“You're super hot when you're all annoyed like this, you know that, right?” Sara asks, looking up.

Ava blinks. Swallows. Silence hangs in the air. She can't help it when her tongue sweeps over her lips. It's involuntary. Sara grins. Ava shakes her head, carefully removes Sara’s fingers from her jacket.

"That doesn't change my mind about tonight," Ava says. Sara sighs, and looks down at her fingers in disappointment, and then Ava speaks again, gives in. “But I'm— I’m free tomorrow. Same time? Seven?”

Sara grins, knowing she's won, and nods.

“Okay. See you tomorrow," Ava says, already regretting it.

Ava pulls back, turns away, tries to steady her breathing. When she is almost out of sight, she looks over her shoulder. Sara is still watching, her gaze intent. She grins when she sees Ava looking, wiggles her fingers in a goodbye wave.

 

When Ava goes back the next day, she can't even begin to pretend she's not there on purpose. She's here to see Sara, and is dressed up, her hair down.

She gets there a little early, because that's who she is, and she wanders through the aisle, wondering where she's supposed to meet Sara. And then Sara answers that question, by appearing out of nowhere, and dragging Ava back into a corner, her fists tight on Ava's jacket.

“Help me get fired,” Sara says, by way of greeting.

“What?”

“Something's come up at my old job. I need to go back. I could quit, but I want that severance, you know?”

Oh no. Old job can only mean one thing, but Ava can't _say_ it, say that she knows, so she just nods. “How am I helping you get fired?”

“Well,” Sara says, “I was hoping basically I could completely go off on you. Yelling at a customer would definitely do it.”

“You want to yell at me?”

“Yeah. Swear at you a couple of times, maybe call you an idiot. That sort of thing.”

Ava raises an eyebrow. “Is this how you flirt? Insults?”

“It would all be _fake_ , Aves.”

Ava blinks at the nickname.

“Please?” Sara asks. “It'll be so fun.”

Ava rolls her eyes. “It doesn't sound fun.”

Sara flutters her eyelashes. "Please?"

"Fine."

Sara smiles, and shoves some towels into Ava’s hands. “You're trying to return these, but you bought them a year ago, and you don't have the receipt. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Cool.” Sara nods. “Okay, give it a minute, then come over to customer service.”

There is too much excitement in her voice.

“You're really pumped to swear at a customer, aren't you?”

“I have never wanted anything more in my entire life, Ava.”

And with that, she is gone, and Ava hovers for a thirty seconds, before beginning to wind back through the store. When she reaches the entrance, Sara is standing behind the desk, looking bored. Another employee is standing a few feet away, doing something on a computer. Sara doesn't even look up until Ava place the towels on the desk.

“I’d like to…. return these.”

“Oh yeah? Got a receipt?”

“No.”

“When did you buy them?”

“Last year.” Ava looks at Sara. Her face goes calm, and then she smiles, just the tiniest bit, mischievous, and then she explodes.

“You bought these _last year?_ And you think you can just fucking _walk in here_ and return them? Who the _fuck_ do you think you are? Do we look like we’re idiots? Just taking back merchandise that has _obviously_ been used? Or maybe _you're_ the idiot? Huh? Is that it? Are you a literal idiot?”

Ava doesn't even have to pretend to be shocked. Sure, she knows it's a game, but she hasn't often been yelled at like this.

The other employee has quietly slipped away, presumably to get someone.

“I'm sorry-”

“You're _sorry?_ You really think that _cuts it?_ I'm out here fucking slaving away at this job, and people think they can just waltz in and get whatever the fuck they want from us. And, because of this company’s _shitty_ policies, I'm probably going to have to let you _have it_ and they're not going to take it out of the store’s profits. Nope, they're going to take it out of mine!”

Sara sounds genuinely angry, so angry that Ava half wonders if it's real, but then the mask slips for half a second, and there's a tiny twinkle in her eye. It's at that moment that a manager appears.

“Sara! That is the last straw. You're fired. I tolerated your substandard behavior for as long as I could, but this is beyond the pale.”

“Good! I hate this shitty store and it's shitty towels anyway.”

The manager looks taken aback, but not as taken aback as he does when Sara grabs the towels off of the desk, and lobs them straight at his face with perfect accuracy. Ava almost wants to laugh, but she has to keep a straight face.

Sara stalks away. “Don't worry about making me leave. I'm changing, and then I'm never coming back.”

The manager turns to Ava. “Ma’am. I'm… so sorry about that. Can I do anything to make it up to you?”

Ava crosses her arms, pretends to consider. “You know, some coupons might be nice.”

Ten minutes later, Sara is walking out of the store, now out of her uniform. It's the first time Ava’s seen her out of it, and it's slightly arresting. She looks ridiculously good. She smiles when she sees Ava waiting.

“See. Wasn't that fun?”

“Probably also fraud, but we’ll ignore that.”

Sara loops her arm through Ava’s. “All in the past, now. Don't have to think about it anymore, not now I've got this new thing. Well, old thing. That's new. New-old thing.”

Ava sighs. She needs to get more information out of Sara. If the Legends are planning something, the Bureau needs to know.

“About that… what exactly is happening?”

“Well,” Sara says, and she pauses. Ava knows she's trying to figure out how to word it. “These ridiculous... bureaucrats shut down my operation like six months ago, but there's a new opportunity for a job, and we don't think they know about it yet, so we’re going to pay them a little visit.”

Fuck. She's talking about the Bureau. They're going to go to the Bureau.

“When, exactly, are you paying them a visit?”

“Tomorrow.”

Well, she might as well get it over with. Otherwise, Sara's going to find out very soon anyway. She pulls away from Sara, her hands going behind her back, moving easily back into her Bureau persona. Calm, officious, and definitely, definitely not having a crush on the woman in front. Sara looks at her, confused.

“Miss Lance?”

Sara stops. “I never told you my last name.”

“About that. I haven't been… entirely honest with you.”

Sara's eyes narrow. “What does that mean?”

“I work for the Time Bureau.”

“Ahh, fuck, Ava. That's even worse than if you were straight.”

**Author's Note:**

> this was def not completely to my usual standard but i wanted to give y'all SOMETHING to tide you over until monday where there will 100% be a new chapter of the mr & mrs smith au. The other aus are just.... temporarily on hold, until I can manage to write one of them. 
> 
> @_avasharpe/directoravasharpe.tumblr.com


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